


The Interim

by CherryMilkshake



Series: At Least Being a Warden Gets You Laid - A Love Story [4]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins, Dragon Age: Origins - Awakening
Genre: Anxiety, Friendship, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-25
Updated: 2015-08-25
Packaged: 2018-04-17 04:00:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4651410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CherryMilkshake/pseuds/CherryMilkshake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Being the Hero of Ferelden didn't really prepare Cousland for being the Warden-Commander of Ferelden, and without a familiar, nonchalant assassin to keep his spirits up, he gets a little lost.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Interim

**Author's Note:**

> This fic begins during the [Last Wishes](http://dragonage.wikia.com/wiki/Last_Wishes) quest during Awakening.

It had been a long time since the silverite mine had seen human use. The darkspawn taint clung to every wall, black and foul, and the scruffles and grunts of the creatures moving about made the Wardens' skin crawl. 

Their main goal was to find a way out of this deathtrap, hopefully with their gear, but currently Warden-Commander Geoffrey Cousland had a different priority. He was looking for a hurlock with a bloody maul, who had fatally injured one of the men under his command. It didn't matter that he had never met the man before, he was _his_. 

Nathaniel tapped Geoffrey's shoulder silently, and pointed down a tunnel. The shadow of a large maul being carried by something big could be seen on the wall.

Grimly, Geoffrey tightened his grip on his stolen longsword, and motioned for the others to follow him. His bare feet made no sound on the rock, and he launched himself at the creature in a surprise attack. 

In a fury, he kicked the large darkspawn with his foot, sending it toppling to the ground, its mouth open and screeching. The blade was unfamiliar in Geoffrey's hands, but he was filled with a rage that kept anything from stopping him. He kept thinking of Warden Keenan, his legs crushed by this darkspawn, unable to leave, asking only for the chance to let his wife know he loved her.

He yelled as he used the longsword as a two-handed weapon, clubbing the creature over the head as it struggled to get up, then stabbed the blade through its temple and twisted. It moved no more. He breathed heavily as he stared down at its corpse. 

"You okay there, Commander?" Oghren asked, hefting his own stolen greatsword out of a piece of genlock. There had apparently been other darkspawn in the room.

"Fine," he said through gritted teeth, before kneeling down in the muck to search the hurlock's body. The ring was on its smallest finger, shining silver and diamond through the darkspawn taint. Geoffrey pulled it free, wiping it off as best he could on his clothing. "I have his ring." 

Nathaniel nodded. "Good. Keep it close. We'll get it to Amaranthine." 

Geoffrey put the ring in his pocket. "Let's get out of here."

"And rescue Seranni!" Velanna interjected.

"Of course. But we need a way out before we can rescue anyone," Geoffrey said, his patience thin but present. 

"Hey!" Oghren shouted. "That darkspawn has my junk!" 

And they were off once again.

\--

It was days before they made it back to the City of Amaranthine. Velanna had her Joining, the banns of the arling had to come and complain at him some more, the dwarf needed more things to rebuild the walls, while his brother needed more things to design bombs to tear them down. But they did eventually get there.

Geoffrey rolled the ring between his fingers, unsure of where to begin looking. He decided on the market, and it bore fruit. Older Fereldans definitely remembered the Grey Warden and his wife, if only because of their Orlesian accents marking them as suspicious.

"Try at the inn," the woman at the vegetable stall said. "I see her go there often after shopping. Perhaps she got a job there?"

"Thank you," Geoffrey said warmly and set off up the stairs.

"You're a regular charmer, aren't you?" Anders said wonderingly. "How do you do it? Everyone just… likes you. Including me!"

Geoffrey smiled. "Anders, I found you a cat. That's why you like me."

Anders paused. "Okay, fair enough."

"I like him for the booze!" Oghren chimed in, belching appreciatively. "He has excellent taste."

Anders rolled his eyes. "If only he had similar discretion with friends," he muttered.

"There's the inn," said Nathaniel. Geoffrey never thought he'd be grateful for the presence of a Howe.

The innkeeper remembered them, of course. "Nida?" the man asked. "Well, she's up in her usual room, but why do you need to see her, Commander?"

"I have news about her husband," Geoffrey said solemnly. "Which room?"

The innkeeper directed them to the last room on the right. 

When Geoffrey knocked, a man cracked open the door. "What do you want?" he grunted through the gap, his eyes narrowed in suspicion.

Geoffrey was grim. "I'm looking for Nida. Do I have the right room?"

"And just who are you?" the man asked, drawing himself up to his full height, chin jutted out in a show of masculinity.

Geoffrey could not even pretend to be intimidated. "I'm the Commander of the Grey."

"Let him in," came a woman's voice, Orlesian lilt obvious. The man opened the door fully and stepped out of the way.

"As you can see, you're interrupting me and my… companion," she said, adjusting the collar of her dress, which had clearly been down under her breasts not a few minutes before. "What do you need?"

Oghren sucked on his teeth quietly. Anders and Nathaniel hovered awkwardly in the doorway.

"I'm here about your husband," Geoffrey said, even as his stomach clenched. "He's dead."

"Ah." Nida didn't look surprised. Maybe she even seemed a little relieved.

Geoffrey thrust his hand forward, dropping the ring onto her palm. "He wanted me to give this to you."

She looked at it sadly. "Thank you, Commander."

He bit his lip, then frowned. "Why did you decide to cheat on him?"

Nida's "companion" stepped forward, arm raised. Geoffrey leveled him a look, inviting him to try. Perhaps taking in the sight of the blood red dragonbone armor and the enchanted sword crackling with electricity, the man wisely lowered his fist.

Nida sighed, her eyes on the ring. "He chose to come here to assist the Grey Wardens. He did not ask me if I wanted to as well. He chose his duty over me, so I chose love over him." She put the ring on the table behind her. "Do you need anything else?"

"No." Geoffrey turned and left, his stomach aching. His companions followed at a distance, unsure of what to say.

Once they were out of the city, it was Oghren who jogged up to his side. "Thinking about your elf?" he asked. 

Geoffrey laughed without humor. "Am I so transparent?"

Oghren shrugged. "Hey, those two don't know him, and've never heard the way you two go at it, so."

Silent, Geoffrey fiddled with the earring pierced through his right earlobe. 

"Geoff?" Oghren rarely called him by name, so it got his attention. "You know your situation is different than theirs, right?"

"Is it really?" he asked, letting his hand fall. "If I weren't Warden-Commander, I would've gone with him to Antiva. Haven't I done the same thing?"

Oghren elbowed him in the side. " _No_ , because you didn't drag him anywhere without asking him first. You didn't make him do anything. Trust me, I know doomed relationships. Yours ain't one."

Geoffrey smiled a little. "Thank you, Oghren."

"Eh, you still aren't getting anymore of my stash."

That got him to laugh.

Anders decided to join the conversation. "Soo, Commander, _him_ , huh? And an elf? I never would've pegged you for the type!"

Nathaniel sighed. "Maker, _must_ you stick your nose into his private life?"

"What, like it didn't catch your attention too?"

Geoffrey smiled as they bickered. It brought back fond memories in a way. Oghren looked up at him with a little smile of his own.

"You'll be alright," he said quietly. "If anyone in this sodding world can figure this crap out, it's you and that damn elf."

\--

And almost as if the Maker were toying with him, when Geoffrey made it back to Vigil's Keep, the private was waiting there with a letter in her hand. "It… says it's from the Raven, Commander," she said uncertainly.

Geoffrey laughed out loud. "Subtle, Zev," he said, shaking his head fondly. "Thank you, ser," he said, plucking it from her hand. 

"Old Oghren knows his stuff," Oghren said warmly, patting Geoffrey's back. "Go enjoy your letter."

"I shall." Geoffrey gave him a wicked grin. "Care to enjoy it with me?"

"Nope!" Oghren hurried away while Geoffrey laughed until his cheeks hurt. 

"Are… you alright there, Commander?" Anders asked uncertainly.

"Never been better," Geoffrey said sincerely. "Now, I'm going to go read this. Don't let anyone bother me, would you?"

As he jogged away, he overheard Anders say to Nathaniel, "What do you think is in that letter that he needs _privacy_?"

"Frankly, I don't need to know that."

Geoffrey chuckled to himself and closed the Keep's door behind him, making his way quickly to his room. Now well and truly alone, he sat down and broke the seal, unrolling the letter.

_Greetings from Antiva!_

Geoffrey smiled, already hearing Zevran's voice in his head. He leaned back into the pillows and began to read.

He had to read between the lines a bit, but it was clear that Zevran was starting a rebellion from within the Crows' ranks. The lower ranking houses were beginning to turn on the higher ranking ones, their unity making it possible. Arainai's former master, Eoman was dead—poisoned in the night by an unseen assailant, no Crow contract out for his life. And each Arainai who rose to the position of Guildmaster found themselves just as dead.

_I think I shall take a brief vacation. Llomerryn is a lovely city in which to disappear for a time. I will write again from sunny Rivain!_

_Z_

Geoffrey shook his head as he finished the letter, the ache of missing Zevran like a deep, fresh bruise. And now he couldn't even write back, because he was in hiding. As Warden-Commander, Geoffrey was duty-bound to investigate what had happened in the mine, no doubt about it, but there was a part of him that wanted to drop everything and go have a wild adventure in Llomerryn with his lover. Especially if any of the salacious tales people told about the city of piracy were true.

He sighed and dropped his head into his hands. He hated this. Hated having to play the arl when he had never had much of a mind for politics, hated that there was clearly something terrible going on with this weird emissary and the talking darkspawn, plus whatever had happened to the Warden Kristoff. He was starting to wonder if there would ever come a time when there was peace, or if he was going to have keep fighting for it until the day he died.

Ah, he had hoped that Zevran's letter would raise his spirits, but it had only served to make him more lonely. He didn't even have his mabari, since he'd lent him to Alistair to help rebuild the army's hound ranks. He chuckled humorlessly. Surely Hardwin was having himself a fabulous time in Denerim. 

There was a knock on the door. "Commander." It was Nathaniel's voice behind it. "Mistress Woolsey wants to speak with you."

Geoffrey groaned. His mood was black enough already. "I'll be right there," he called, climbing out of bed.

"Everything alright?" Nathaniel asked. "I can tell her to wait if you want."

Geoffrey snorted. "As if she would put up with that. Thank you though." He put his boots back on and trudged out into the corridor, pulling the door shut behind him.

\--

When the Mother and Architect were dead, Geoffrey returned to Vigil's Keep. It had suffered for the battle, but dwarven walls and Wade's steel had staved off the worst of it. Nathaniel was unhappy with the fact the Architect was dead, but Geoffrey was too tired to argue anymore. At least Justice and Anders were on his side. 

The seneschal gave him a report of all the damage done. Velanna was gone, but Oghren and Sigrun were battered but alive. The Keep had sustained significant losses, but nothing unsalvageable. If the Wardens of the Keep were resentful of their commander choosing to save the civilians of Amaranthine, they didn't show it.

A few weeks into overseeing repairs, Geoffrey got another letter, this one from the "Kestrel". Remembering Zevran's silly conversations with Sten, he smiled as he took it. 

_Llomerryn is truly a lovely city. There's a whore on every corner and pirates at every dock. It's just like home, but with fewer assassins._

_I hope this letter finds you well. I've heard strange rumors coming from Amaranthine. They say the Warden's Keep was overrun by darkspawn? I hope you'll pen a quick note to the innkeeper of the Salty Wench to tell your fine Kestrel that you are safe, yes? Knowing you, you've a fine tale to tell, and laying low is very dull indeed._

_Perhaps I shall pay you a visit soon. Lovely as this city is, I find myself missing your delightful company._

_Upon receiving your letter, I will be on the first ship heading south._

_Yours truly,_

_Z_

Geoffrey smiled, though he was sorry he had worried Zevran. It must have been frightening to hear that the Keep had been overrun without knowing what had happened. He went to his desk and immediately began a letter.

_Z,_

_I'm safe. The Keep was actually overrun twice, once before I arrived, and again recently, but I was in the city at the time. It was also under attack of course. …_

_Perhaps I should start at the beginning._

It took longer than he thought to write. And so much of it seemed unbelievable when put to paper. But he wrote it regardless, and rolled the three sheets of vellum together, sealing them with wax and his signet ring.

He walked it down to the seneschal's office, asking for it to be delivered as quickly as possible to the Salty Wench in Llomerryn. If the man was confused by the request, he didn't indicate it. "As you say, Commander." 

\-- 

The next letter was very short. 

_On my way. Should arrive first week of Harvestmere. -Z_

\-- 

Some weeks later, Geoffrey awoke in the pale light of early dawn to a sudden presence beside his bed and a soft voice in his ear. "You really should hire better guards, mi amor."

Geoffrey started, then grabbed Zevran in a tight hug, pulling him down into the bed, armor be damned. "I really hope you're real," he mumbled. 

"I quite hope I'm real too. I feel pretty real." Zevran had lost weight, the angles of his face just a little bit sharper, his hips under Geoffrey's palms just a little bit bonier. As worrying as it was, since Zevran had never exactly been stocky, it assured Geoffrey that this was no dream.

"I think you're wearing too many clothes for a proper reunion," he said, smirking as he squinted up at Zevran's face. 

"You know, I think you're right. I will rectify this immediately."

Armor and clothing fell unceremoniously to the floor, and Zevran was straddling Geoffrey's waist, his familiar brown skin a welcome sight. Well, mostly familiar.

"Is this a new one?" Geoffrey asked, running his fingers over a new tattoo across Zevran's chest. It was black ink, like the rest of Zevran's tattoos, but it appeared to be a stylized mabari and an elfroot plant that was suspiciously reminiscent of the Cousland heraldry. 

"It is," he said, holding Geoffrey's hand over it. "What can I say? Most of the others have to do with the Crows. It seemed only fitting to have one for you as well." He seemed a little embarrassed. 

Geoffrey grinned and sat up just enough that he could grab Zevran and pull him down onto the bed, then roll over so now Geoffrey was now positioned over him. "It's beautiful, Zev. Thank you." He kissed him. "Did you design it?"

"Yes, though I had a friend of mine in Antiva City actually do it. It's hard to draw upside down, and tattoos require a steady hand."

"Design one for me, and I'll get it. Whatever you want."

"Anything I want?" Zevran smirked. "That's just asking for me to put a cock on your face, my Warden."

Geoffrey laughed. Oh, it felt good to laugh again. When had he stopped? "I trust you to go for something sensual without being completely lewd. Maybe in the same place as yours?"

Zevran seemed to be giving it quite a bit of thought, stroking the dark hair on Geoffrey's chest. "I will do some drawings then," he declared. "But that can wait for a few hours, yes?"

"Did you lock the door?"

"Of course."

Geoffrey smiled and lowered his head so their noses were touching. "Then yes, it can wait for a few hours." Just the smell of Zevran, sharp and sweet and salty like the sea, was going straight to his cock. He wasn't sure if he could fill a few hours honestly, but if he knew Zevran, they'd find a way. "Now, you were saying something about a cock in my face?"

\--

For the rest of the day, Geoffrey declared that he was too ill to attend to his duties and remained in his bedroom. After thoroughly catching up on all the activities that required a fairly level surface, Zevran started on his tattoo designs for Geoffrey. He was seated at the great desk. The papers that usually crowded its top had been put away in a drawer, replaced by blank vellum and a few extra bottles of ink.

"I almost wish you were not so pale," Zevran clucked, frowning at Geoffrey's chest with an artist's eye. "It would be interesting to have me in black and you in white."

Geoffrey, who was sitting on one of the guest chairs, casually dressed only in pants, stroked his chin. "Well, your tattoo is supposed to represent me already, isn't it? I can't see white being a color for you. Black, certainly. But also green. And amber."

Zevran smiled a little. Geoffrey was certain he knew precisely why those colors. "Green would look nice with your skin tone, but with your eyes? No, no. They're too pale a blue for an earthy green or amber."

"I suppose black is the best choice then."

"Mm." Zevran turned back to his sheet of vellum, and dipped his pen in the inkwell, making a few loose sketches. "Clearly it needs something of a crow, but what else do you think? I hardly have heraldry."

"A dagger," Geoffrey said instantly. After a moment he added, "Or a vial." He thought about it further. "Or the same sort of gentle curving lines like you have on your face and sides."

Zevran hummed thoughtfully as he worked. "I like the dagger and vial," he said. "Maybe it's better not to have a crow after all. I am no longer one in large part thanks to you, after all." He drew for a little longer, then held out the page for Geoffrey to see, pointing at one design in particular.

It was a dagger stabbed through a small bottle, the black ink of the poison dripping down and off the end of the blade. "It's being lanced," Zevran explained. "Like an abscess. Sure, the process hurts, but it's ultimately for the best."

"So am I the dagger?" Geoffrey asked, taking the page to study the design more closely. "Helping drain the poison out of you?"

Zevran rubbed his nose, eyes darting away from Geoffrey's. "Something like that, I suppose."

Geoffrey smiled. "I like it," he declared. 

Zevran nodded and took the vellum back. "I'll refine it a bit then. I will give it to you before I go."

"Go?" Geoffrey's heart throbbed. "You're leaving again?"

"Sadly, yes. There is much that still needs doing if I'm to completely ruin House Arainai. And perhaps the Crows overall. I've yet to decide if I will take it that far."

Geoffrey swallowed. He could ask Zevran to stay. If he pleaded, he probably would. He would abandon whatever plans he had worked so hard to set in place to… to do what? Live here as his companion? Zevran could hardly work as an assassin out here in the countryside. Peasants could hardly afford it, and Wardens did their own killing. Geoffrey's head fell, the words dying on his tongue. Nida rose unbidden to his mind's eye, adjusting her dress, looking at Keenan's ring with only a hint of sadness.

He couldn't do that to Zevran. 

He couldn't do that to himself.

A gentle hand tilted up his chin. "Such a face," Zevran chided, but there was genuine worry there in his face. "What do you need, mi amor?"

Geoffrey shook his head and pulled Zevran's hips forward so he could rest his face against his stomach. "I will miss you. And not just in my bed."

"Though the bed is good, yes?" Zevran knelt down so they were eye to eye and took his hands. "It is not forever."

Geoffrey kissed his nose, smiling a little as Zevran scrunched up his face at the innocent gesture. "When you're done, let's go on an adventure."

"Oh? What sort of adventure?"

Geoffrey shrugged. "I'm not sure yet, but I'm sure I'll come across some mystery to be solved. I just know I won't last as this place's arl much longer. I'm a warrior. I don't do well cooped up."

Zevran ran his hand over Geoffrey's cheek. "Feel free to adventure without me if need be. Just write when you can."

"Well, I _have_ been wondering where Morrigan got to," he mumbled. "She should have had the baby by now…"

"There you go. Go track down our intrepid swamp witch." Zevran stood up, pulling Geoffrey up with him. "Bring your dog though. Don't just go alone." He looked around. "Where is he anyway?"

Geoffrey explained. Zevran laughed. "He must be having a ball! Come, we cannot let you be outdone by a dog. There must be one of your fellow Wardens that we could invite to join us. It's no harem, but variety is the spice of life, as they say."

For a moment, Geoffrey considered Nathaniel. After all, he was an attractive man. But no, their friendship was tenuous enough that he didn't think bringing sex into it would be wise.

There was a knock at the door. "Commander?" It was Anders. "Sigrun told me you were sick. I brought you some tea and a couple of elfroot potions."

Geoffrey grinned at Zevran. "Hey," he murmured. "How long has it been since you bedded a mage?"

Zevran matched his grin. "Far too long," he murmured back.

Geoffrey unlocked the door and let Anders inside. "Anders, my friend, allow me to introduce Zevran Arainai."


End file.
